Invisusamore
by Nephimar
Summary: A small wager turns into a prank war and the results are not what anyone expected.
1. A Wager

**Title**: Invisusamore  
  
**Author**: Nephimar  
  
**Rating**: PG-13 (for a while anyway)  
  
**Disclaimer**: Sadly, I do not own any of these characters. No trademark infringement is intended. I'm just having a bit of fun.  
  
**Additional** **Rambling**: Chapters will be short at first. I apologies for that, but it cannot be helped. Well, it probably could be, but I simply don't feel like doing it differently. If you would like to read something a bit longer, I suggest you read my story Spontaneity. (Yes, that was a shameless plug.)  
  
**Warnings**: None for this chapter. But I intend to turn this into slash before the end, so if that doesn't appeal to you, you may want to find a different story.  
  
Now on to the story...

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**Invisusamore**

**A** **Wager**

The Slytherin common room was filled with the hum of many low-pitched conversations. Pansy Parkinson lounged in an armchair as she filed her nails and listened to the various discussions going on around her. She looked up to see four boys enter the room. Three were smiling and the other was wearing him trademark smirk.  
  
"Did you see his face? It was priceless." Blaise Zabini's eyes got a faraway look as he momentarily relived whatever mischief they had been apart of.  
  
Goyle gave a deep chuckle, "yeah, Draco, when you told me to bring you a basket of figs and some mice, I thought he was going to wet himself."  
  
Draco's smirk widened. "I've seen stronger men break when I sent for figs and mice."  
  
A confused expression stole across Crabbe's face. "What were you going to do with them?"  
  
Draco gave a dismissive wave of his hand and said, "nothing. I didn't need to. As soon as I asked for those things, he started imagining all the horrific things I could do with them. That was more torturous than anything I could have done."  
  
By this time, they had wandered near to where Pansy was seated. She put on a grin and called, "playing mind games with first years, Draco? It was probably a Hufflepuff too."  
  
He turned to her and raised an eyebrow. "For your information, it was a fourth year Ravenclaw. And are you insinuating that I've lost my touch?"  
  
Good old Draco, he was so easy to bait. Pansy never took their banter too far, but she did like to occasionally get under his skin. "Of course not. But I have to wonder why you waste your time on little Ravenclaws. There's no challenge in that."  
  
He effected a smile and asked, "and what, my dear Pansy, would you suggest?"  
  
"Well, Gryffindors are always a bit more challenging than the other houses." With a smirk, she added, "and it's fun to watch Potter glare at you."  
  
"I can make Potter do much more than that," he said with absolute confidence.  
  
"Oh, I don't know... You haven't really gotten to him in a while now. Maybe you are loosing your touch."  
  
Draco put a hand gingerly over his heart and said in a falsely wounded voice, "I am deeply offended by your lack of faith in my taunting abilities. I have perfected the art of humiliating Potter and no one does it better than I."  
  
"Is that so...?" Pansy was suddenly struck by an idea. It would be great fun if she could talk Draco into it.  
  
If he had noticed the mischievous glint in Pansy's eye, he didn't react to it. "Yes, it bloody well is," he confirmed.  
  
With an innocently sweet smile, she asked, "would you care to make a wager on that?"  
  
"Really, Pansy. Do you really wish to reduce yourself to petty gambling?" Despite his words, she could see that he was considering it. After a long moment of thought, he nodded to himself and said, "alright. What are the stakes?"  
  
"Well, if you are unable to humiliate Potter within a month, you will have to..." she paused to think up a suitable alternative. "You will wear Gryffindor robes with 'Property of Harry Potter' embroidered in large gold letters across the front and back."  
  
He rolled his eyes and said, "I won't need a month. I will require no more than a week. What do I get when I win our little bet?"  
  
"Bragging rights. And the opportunity to see Potter weep with mortification." That was the purpose of this wager, after all. Draco hadn't pulled any elaborate tricks on the Golden Boy in ages and Pansy rather missed them.  
  
He nodded and then said, "alright, I suppose that'll do."  
  
Pansy and Draco spent a few more minutes discussing a few minor details. Then Draco beckoned to the three boys who had wisely decided not to interrupt he and Pansy, and went to the other side of the common room. Draco looked to be engaged in idle chatter with his companions, but Pansy knew that inside that head of his, thoughts of how to win their bet were whirling through his mind.

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**Author's Note:** I Have chapter 3 completed and a portion of the 4th as well. However, I haven't started on chapter 2. (And yes, insanity does run in the family.) I'll get busy writing it tomorrow and it'll be up soon. Unless, of course, you don't want me to continue... 


	2. A Plethora of Pamphlets

Title: Invisusamore

**Author**: Nephimar

**Rating**: PG-13 (for a while anyway)

**Disclaimer**: Sadly, I do not own any of these characters. No trademark infringement is intended. I just enjoy torturing fictional characters.

**Additional Rambling**: Well, this chapter took much longer to finally write than I thought it would. Oops. I would apologize... but I'm in a Slytherin mood and Slytherins don't say 'sorry.' shrug There's nothing I can do about it. Take it up with the Slytherins. (Oh, and the z's signify a change of POV.)

**Warnings**: Eh, well... Draco's being a meanie. Hints at homosexuality and... ah, that's it really.  
On with the story...

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Invisusamore

A Plethora of Pamphlets

It was 6:30 on a Saturday morning and Harry Potter found himself seated in the Great Hall with the other members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Ron, who had been chosen to be captain, was determined to win the Cup this year and therefore implemented a rigorous training schedule almost as soon as they'd stepped off the Hogwarts Express.

Harry noticed Ginny snoring into her plate of eggs and watched as Andrew Kirke's head kept drooping down then snapping up again as he tried to stay awake. "Ron, I think you might just be worst than Oliver," Harry complained as he fought to keep his own eyes open.

"Harry, don't you want to beat Slytherin in the final?" Ron seemed to take for granted that it would come down to a Gryffindor vs. Slytherin showdown.

"Well, yeah. But why do we have to practice so early?"

Ron gave the same exasperated sigh he always gave when answering similar questions. "Because no one else will be up to spy on us." He paused and added, "well, no one but Malfoy. He's up to something, he is. The way he keeps watching you... he's up to something, I _know_ he is."

Harry glanced over to the Slytherin table where Malfoy was seated. He hadn't thought anyone else had noticed how much Malfoy had been observing him these last few days. Apparently Ron had. In between the usual glares and sneers, the Slytherin had been giving him calculating looks. Even more disturbing had been the malicious smiles he kept getting from Pansy Parkinson. Yes, the Slytherins were definitely up to something.

zzzzzzzzzz

On the other side of the Great Hall, Draco Malfoy watched as the Gryffindor quidditch team rose and headed for the pitch. As the last member left the hall, he raised his goblet of pumpkin juice in a silent salute and drained the remaining contents.

Today was the day he would win his bet with Pansy. He'd been observing Potter very closely for the past few days and had found the best way to mortify him: girls. Girls made Potter very twitchy. Okay, he might be fine when around the Mudblood and Weaselette, but if he wasn't able to play the brotherly bit, he seemed to be completely out of his depth. As far as Draco's knowledge went, Potter had only ever been interested in one girl. And all of Hogwarts knew how his little fling with Chang had ended.

Another observation Draco had made was just how much Potter hated to be photographed. Creepy Creevey was constantly dancing around him and waving that camera of his in Potter's face.

From these observations, he had formed a idea. Creevey's photo's were relatively easy to come by. Nearly every empty-headed Hufflepuff was infatuated with the Golden Gryffindor and had in her possession a picture or two from Creevey. Draco had enrolled Pansy's help to 'borrow' some of these and had found the best pictures to fit the purpose he meant to put them to.

Draco smiled to himself as the first early rising Slytherins entered the Great Hall. He reached under the table and pulled a box up on to the seat next to him. He spent the rest of the morning passing out the means of his victory and giving instructions for their distribution to his fellow Slytherins. By noon, every student in Hogwarts would be privy to Potter's 'preferences'.

zzzzzzzzzz

Harry was exhausted. Practice had lasted for three hours and Ron had been very sparing on breaks. When practice was finally declared over, he had landed and dismounted his broom with a sigh of relief. At least one thing good came from this grueling training; there was no way any of the other teams were going to have an easy time playing them.

Harry showered quickly and left the changing rooms. Instead of returning to the castle, he and Ron stayed on the grounds while the other members of the team trudged back across the lawns. The day was warm and too few sunny days remained of the year for them to be wasted inside. And really, Harry was just too tired to be enthused about walking all the way back to the castle.

They sat under the sparse shade of a large molting oak tree and discussed the progress the team had made. The team had taken a hard blow when most it's players had graduated last year. But Ginny was a surprisingly good Chaser and Dennis Creevey wasn't that bad either. With his slight build and light weight, he just might be able to replace Harry as Seeker after he left Hogwarts. Yes, all in all, the team was none too shabby.

Their conversation was cut short by the sight of Hermione running across the lawn in their direction and waving her arms frantically. They rose to their feet and headed toward her fearing the worst. Had Voldemort attacked somewhere? Had something gone wrong in the Order?

Harry held his breath as Hermione reached them and bent double trying to catch her breath.

"Harry... They're all over... the school," she panted. "Don't know how... bet it was Malfoy." She waved folded pieces of parchment at Harry and he them from her with trepidation.

It appeared to be a pamphlet. What he saw on the cover made all worries of Voldemort and the on going struggle vanish. His jaw dropped as he read the heading. **"Harry Potter's Secret Fetish"** Below that was a picture of Harry staring off into space.

With growing anxiety, he opened to the first page. What he saw there made him livid. The pamphlet first detailed his lack of interest in women and was filled with pictures of him shying out of the shot and various girls trying to drag him back in. It then went on to show him polishing his broom in the common room and a caption hinting at the phallic symbolism.

He closed the pamphlet without looking at the last few pages and handed it to Ron. "How many of these are there?" he asked tonelessly.

"Nearly everyone has one," Hermione replied with worry tingeing her voice.

Ron's eyes widened as he read through the pages and he cast a curious look at Harry. "Mate, this isn't... you know...?"

"True?!" Harry asked incredulously. "Of course it isn't!"

"Oh, yeah. I knew it wasn't. Just, eh... checking," he said lamely.

Without another word, Harry turned to the castle and stalked toward it. He didn't stop until he reached the Great Hall. Along the way, Ron and Hermione trailed after him and other students hid bits of paper from his sight and cast speculative looks his way. He entered the Hall and looked straight to the Slytherin table.

Malfoy was seated in his usual spot and looking quite smug. When he saw that Harry had entered the room, the Slytherin saluted him with one of the pamphlets. It took every ounce of will he possessed to refrain from whipping out his wand and hexing Ferret Face into oblivion.

To prove that he wouldn't let Malfoy effect him, he calmly walked over to the Gryffindor table and took a seat. He very carefully added some food to a plate and began eating without any outward sign of his rage. Everyone around him was trying to stare at him without appearing to do so. Harry ignored them all and continued with his eating.

Hermione cautiously make an attempt to talk to him. "Um, Harry, you're not going to do anything... rash? Are you?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I would like to know that as well." Harry had been so focused on ignoring all the stares that he hadn't seen Professor McGonnagall approach the table.

"No, Professor. I won't." _I won't be rash at all. My retaliation is going to be thought out and thorough,_ he added to himself.

"See that you don't."

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**A/N**: The next chapter won't take nearly as long. In fact, it's already written. But I'm holding it hostage and ransoming it for reviews. 


	3. Draco in Drag

**Title**: Invisusamore  
  
**Author**: Nephimar  
  
**Rating**: PG-13 (for a while anyway)  
  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of these characters. No trademark infringement is intended. I just enjoy corrupting JK's characters.  
  
**Additional** **Rambling**: My ransom has been met and here is the promised chapter!  
The second half of this chapter was inspired by sleep deprivation and was actually the first part of this story I wrote. One late night, I was listening to No Doubt and flipping through the CD booklet. I was looking at a picture of Gwen Stefani and suddenly shouted, "She looks like a female Draco!" And of course, I decided that I _had_ to write a story about it.

**Warnings**: You'll never be able to look at Gwen Stefani the same way again.

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**Invisusamore**

**Draco in Drag**

A few days later, Harry could be found sitting in the Gryffindor common room brooding. As he thought of all the nasty things he'd like to do to Malfoy, he subconsciously began shredding one of the pamphlets into confetti.

None of the Gryffindor's seemed to believe what was written in those pages, but the same couldn't be said for the other Houses. He'd had to endure unending comments from the Slytherins about getting it up the arse. Potions classes had been a nightmare. Snape had made a point of moving him way from Ron and any other male in the room so that he might not become distracted.

The teachers (with exception to Snape) had made it clear that no materials not pertaining to their lessons would be tolerated in class. But that was about all they could do. As far as Harry could see, Malfoy had gone completely unpunished.

Harry's revenge plotting was interrupted by giggling. He frowned at the other side of the room where Parvati and Lavender were applying paint to Ginny's face via wand. Parvati's wand spouted a small crimson fountain which landed to settle on Ginny's lips. Lavender eyed her critically and shook her head. She pointed her wand at the youngest Weasley's face and muttered a spell. Ginny's mouth suddenly took on a lighter shade. Harry's thoughts of vengeance were briefly forgotten as he watched the slow transformation of Ginny's face, hair and even clothing in fascination.

Inspiration struck Harry with a nearly physical blow. He stood and joined the girls on the other side of the room. When he approached, they stopped and eyed him wearily. He'd been getting that a lot lately. They might not believe what had been printed about him, but that didn't mean they didn't think him capable of loosing the tenuous hold he'd kept on his temper at any moment. He had even heard Seamus and Dean quietly betting on how long it would be before Malfoy fell victim to a nasty 'accident'.

"Could you guys teach me some of those spells?" he asked of the girls.

Parvati looked confused. "But I thought the pamphlets weren't tru—"

Both Lavender and Ginny tried to clamp a hand over her mouth at the same time. This resulted in something like a pair of soft slaps delivered to Parvati's face.

"Sure, Harry, we'll show you."

"Yeah, um, what do you want to see first?"

Once the impromptu lesson got underway, Harry was surprised at just how many self-improvement spells the girls knew. Make-up seemed to be the least of what they could do.

When they had taught him nearly everything they knew, he thanked them and asked, "Do you know when the next Hogsmead weekend is scheduled for?"

"Weekend after next I think. Why?"

"Oh, no reason," Harry replied far too innocently.

---

Parchment and bottles of multicolored potions cluttered the desk of Professor Snape. He sat amid the mess bent over his lesson plans for his third year classes. He let out a weary sigh and wrote a few more notes before moving on to his next task. The next task was, of course, more lesson plans. He dipped his quill into the inkpot and began planning for the fourth years.

**BANG!**

Snape's head snapped up as the door to his office was flung open and crashed into the dungeon wall. Reaching for the wand hidden up his sleeve, he rose from his seat.

A young blonde girl stood in the shadowed doorway. Snape arched an eyebrow and wondered why Hannah Abbott would dare to enter as she had. The idiot girl was terrified of Snape and hardly ever spoke in class.

In his most demanding voice he asked, "What is the meaning of this, Miss. Abbott?"

"Do I look like a Hufflepuff to you?!" said the visitor in a deep, angry voice.

The intruder took a few large strides into the room and was illuminated with candlelight. Snape's mouth twitched at the corners and he had to fight a rare smile. It was not Hannah Abbott that had come to call. Dressed in a tight fitting blouse and a pleated, green mini skirt with shoulder length pigtails was Draco Malfoy.

"You do indeed, Mr. Malfoy. A _female_ Hufflepuff." Snape watched as a scowl spread across the boy's face. "And is that lipstick you're wearing?"

Draco mumbled something as he wiped his mouth on the arm of his long-sleeved white blouse. Glaring at the smear of red, he said, "I am going to _kill_ Potter."

Ah, of course. It had only been a matter of time before Potter sought vengeance for the blow he had taken to his reputation as a heterosexual male. Potter's preferences were really of no interest to Snape, but he had always thought the boy looked a bit fey. For that matter, so did Draco. But no matter, back to the crisis at hand...

"What does Potter have to do with your choice of women's apparel?"

Waving his arms in an attempt to express his fury and causing his pigtails to swing back and forth, he yelled, "he did this to me!"

"Mr. Malfoy, you will keep your voice down while in my office."

"But _look_ at me!" Draco shouted as he wildly gestured at himself.

Snape spoke in a low severe tone, "In my day, students jumped when a professor said jump, and continued jumping until told to stop. As I am still alive, it is still my day. Need I make myself clearer?"

The young Slytherin had the grace to look abashed and dropped his glare to the floor. Snape sighed in exasperation and said, "Now, what did Potter do?"

Draco looked up again and began his tale. "Some of the other Slytherins and I were in Hogsmead and heading to the Three Broomsticks. Potter jumped out from nowhere and transfigured my robes into _this_," he indicated the skirt and blouse. "Then he did something to lengthen my hair and put it in these ridiculous things," he said as he pulled at his pigtails. "And apparently he put make-up on me too. Before I realised what he'd done, he vanished into the crowd. Bloody coward."

He would have dearly loved to punish Potter, but this stunt wouldn't be enough to get him expelled. Maybe a detention and a few House Points, but nothing more.

"Mr. Malfoy, there isn't much I can do for you. Why don't you go change out of those clothes and wash the paint from your face."

"I can't go to the Common Room looking like _this!_ Enough people have seen me already!" Draco yelled in outrage.

"Fine, I'll re-transfigure your robe, but you will have to wash your own face."

Once Draco was back in his black school robes he turned to leave Snape's office. As he opened the door, the Potions Master heard him mutter, "how did he know those spells anyway? Damned poncy git."

The door closed with a click and Snape stared at it for a moment. It seemed that the two rivals were even in prank points once again. Hopefully, Potter would do something worthy of expulsion. And if he did, Snape was determined to be there.

He pictured again in his mind Draco dressed as a girl and let out a chuckle. With a slight shake of his head, he sat back down and went back to his lesson plans.

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**A/N**: Chapter 4 is firmly planned out in my head. Therefore, writing it shouldn't be too difficult. It should be coming along shortly.  
As always, I would love to hear from you. Send me reviews and I'll, um... bake you a pie! Yeah, that's it! Of course, I'll have to eat it myself. Stale pie doesn't taste very good and it'd be sure to go stale during shipping. And we wouldn't want to waste a perfectly good pie, now would we?


	4. Boys and Broomsticks

**Title**: Invisusamore  
  
**Author**: Nephimar  
  
**Rating**: PG-13  
  
**Disclaimer**: Nope, still not mine. Blast.  
  
**Additional** **Rambling**:Is it just me or is the internet running awfully slow? -shrug- Oh, well. Here is the latest and greatest installment of Invisusamore. Well, maybe not the _greatest_, but its none too shabby either.

**Warnings**: Nuh.. Gay porn?

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**Invisusamore**

**Boys and Broomsticks**

Draco Malfoy was in a bad mood. A very bad mood. After leaving Snape's office, he'd had to traverse the dungeons and navigate his way to the dorms. He'd only come across a few students not from Slytherin House, but those few where enough to spread the news of his humiliation. And that wasn't even taking into account all the students whom had had a glimpse of Potter's handy work while he was still in Hogsmeade.

Now safely in his dorm and away from prying eyes, Draco gazed at himself in the floor length mirror. Potter had done quite a job on him. Removing all the black eye junk that had coated his flaxen eyelashes had proven to be impossible and his lips still held a reddish stain. Grudgingly, he had asked Pansy for assistance in returning his hair to its original state. She had almost refused. She claimed he looked good with long hair. A few moments of being on the receiving end of his murderous glare had been enough to make her shut up and charm away the extra hair.

The reflection in the mirror whistled and wiggled its eyebrows at Draco and he fought the urge to smash the damn thing into a thousand tiny shards. Taking his anger out on the mirror wouldn't do him any good and he wanted to save all his aggression for the plotting of his revenge.

He turned away from the mirror and strode over to his four-poster. With a _fwump_, he flopped onto the sheets. For a few minutes, he stayed unmoving on his stomach and amused himself with images of inventive (and unlikely) ways to make Potter cry like a little girl. He gave a sigh and rolled onto his back, settling in for more realistic plots of revenge. Because, really, there was no way he'd be able to smuggle a Fwooper into Potter's dorm. Best to focus on achievable goals.

There was no question of whether or not he'd get Potter back for this. It was only a matter of how he was going to do it. Draco figured it was best to stick with the theme they seemed to have going: complete destruction of the other's male pride. So of course, the prank had to include something backing the rumors of Potter's homosexuality.

Draco gave another sigh and rolled back onto his stomach and to the edge of his bed. He leaned over the side and reached under for a box he kept there. It was slightly heavy and so riddled with locking charms no student but he would ever be able to open it. Opening it took a few minutes and several complex counter spells, but the lid finally came off with a soft click.

There was a way to make Potter look very guilty, but it would mean sacrifice on Draco's part. He closed his bed hangings securely and emptied the contents of his box onto his coverlet. A small collection of questionable artifacts clinked together. Oh, they weren't too dangerous. Draco's parents would never have allowed him to bring anything truly evil to Hogwarts where that Muggle-lover Dumbledore might be able to confiscate it.

But the small trinkets weren't what Draco needed. He pushed them to the side and pulled a thick stack of papers toward him. The glossy coverboy of a wizarding magazine waved up at him. He smirked and began sorting through his collection of magazines.

Now, Draco wasn't _gay_ exactly. But he was awfully curious about the whole thing. And it wasn't such a big deal as it was in the Muggle world. There were damn few purebloods out there and options were limited. It only made sense to explore all of the possible options there were. As long as the bloodline did continue on, it didn't really matter what happened on the side. Or so Draco's father had said during a _most_ embarrassing lecture on the birds and the bees a few summers ago.

So Draco sat amid an array of gay porn mags and deliberated on which to sacrifice. Finally, he settled on a copy of this months' Boys and Broomsticks. It was suitably lewd and very fitting. The coverboy was indecently fetching. And Potter was after all, a great fan of 'broomsticks'.

Yes indeed. Potter was going to pay for what he did in the village. If he thought the teasing was bad before, he was going to be positively miserable after tomorrow's Potions lesson.

Harry was quite pleased with himself. Yesterday's trip to Hogsmeade had gone perfectly. He'd been able to get into spell casting distance, work his magic on Malfoy and escape completely unscathed. All of Hogwarts had completely forgotten about the pamphlets and had begun talking about Draco Malfoy's cross-dressing fetish.

Yup, life was good. Not even the impending Potions class scheduled for later that afternoon could dampen Harry's mood. He couldn't wait to see how Malfoy was taking the role reversal now that he was the one being gossiped about.

So, after lunch, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked towards Snape's classroom with the other sixth year Gryffindors grouped around them, all laughing at how feminine Malfoy looked even _without_ the skirt and make-up. They entered the room to find the Slytherin's already in their seats.

"Hey, Malfoy," called Seamus. "You wearing fishnet stockings under those robes?"

"Yeah," chimed in Ron, "I heard you where in Hogsmeade yesterday to pick up a few new push-up bras to go with your lacy knickers."

A glare was all Draco could deliver before Snape came sweeping into the room. "Five points from Gryffindor. Get in your seats."

The point reduction didn't even phase Harry as he headed for his seat. He gave Malfoy a mocking salute and sat down. He got his materials from his bag and settled in for what promised to be a better Potions lesson than he'd had in weeks. He propped his bag up on the floor beside his desk and began setting up his cauldron.

Once Snape had given instructions and taken away a few more house points, Harry rose to get ingredients from the supply-closet. On the way back to his desk with his arms burdened with various items, Malfoy passed him on his own trip to the supply-closet and shoved his shoulder forcefully into Harry.

"I thought you'd be better at walking in those high heels by now, Malfoy," he said just loud enough for the Slytherin to hear.

Malfoy ignored the comment and said, "about time you came out of that closet, Potter."

They spared a moment to scowl at each other then continued on their way. Harry deposited his armload into the desk he shared with Ron and Hermione and retook his seat.

A few minutes later, Malfoy came strolling down the aisle way nearest Harry with his own armload of potion ingredients. As he passed Harry's seat, he stumbled over Harry's book bag and spilled its contents all over the aisle.

"High heels still troubling you?" Harry asked.

But Malfoy wasn't listening. He was looking down at the floor and said in a voice loud enough to carry over the quiet classroom, "My, my, Potter. What do we have here?"

Harry looked to the floor and his mouth dropped in shock. Mixed in with his quills, parchment and books was something that most definitely wasn't his. A wizarding photo graced the cover of a magazine that absolutely did not belong to Harry. The photo was of a nude wizard sitting astride an indecently shaped broom handle.

Students began craning their necks to see what was on the floor and all Harry could do was gape as a blush crept up his cheeks. Snape, his timing perfect as ever, was there and swooping down the pick up the offending magazine before anyone even rose from his or her seat.

"Indeed, Mr. Potter. Just what is this?" Snape, obviously, knew perfectly well what it was. He held it up for everyone to see with a thumb and forefinger as though it was dripping in slime and in danger of soiling his robes.

"Professor, it's not mine," Harry said indignantly.

"Then why, Mr. Potter, was it with your things?"

"I didn't know it was in there. It's not mine," he said through gritted teeth.

"Stand up, Potter." When Harry was standing, Snape thrust the magazine at him and said, "ten points from Gryffindor. Now, go take this filth to Professor McGonagall."

"But it's not mine," Harry said angrily.

Malfoy was standing to the side, shaking with the force of his silent laughter. He calmed himself enough to whisper, "thou dost protest to much, Potter."

Harry, who had endured a vast amount of embarrassment over the last few weeks because of Malfoy, finally lost the hold he'd maintained on his temper. He turned to face Ferret Boy and punched him square in the nose before Malfoy's eyes could even widen in alarm.

Malfoy hit the floor clutching his bleeding nose with one hand. With his other hand, he raised his wand and pointed it at Harry. He muttered a spell that was too thick with blood and pain to understated and Harry doubled over in pain. He slid to the floor gripping his stomach and wheezing.

Snape simply glared at the pair of them for a moment before stooping to pick up the fallen magazine. "I will destroy this. Thomas, Ms. Parkinson, please escort Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter to the hospital wing."

**

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**A/N:** I'm not sure what will happen next. We're all experiencing the build up and anticipation together, isn't that fun? Even I, the author, have no idea what the hell Draco hit Harry with. I hope it wasn't anything dangerous...


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